


Almost

by walkthegale



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Chance Meetings, Critical Role Femslash Week, F/F, Femslash, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 07:49:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17442848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkthegale/pseuds/walkthegale
Summary: Running into Keg again should be awkward. Beau doesn’t know why it’s not.





	Almost

**Author's Note:**

> [Critical Role Femslash Week](https://critrolefemslash.tumblr.com/post/180178925470/critical-role-femslash-week-will-be-held-wednesday), Day 1: Prompt 1, **Distant Places**

Beau hasn’t cleaned any of the blood off her knuckles yet. It’s drying in the grooves between her fingers, lacing through the tiny lines of her skin, cracking and flaking when she moves.

The half-elf behind the bar has given her a few snotty looks but hasn’t said anything about it yet. Whatever her appearance, Beau’s money is as good as anyone else’s, and they all paid far more for the night’s rooms than anything in this shithole could actually be worth.

“Hey, stranger.”

Beau coughs, nearly spits out a mouthful of her drink, and whips around in her seat. “What the _fuck_?”

Keg grins at her, a little sheepish, a little hopeful, a lot awkward. “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a dump like this?” She takes in the bruise blossoming near Beau’s left eye, the mess of dirt and welts at her neck, and raises an eyebrow. “Or the other way around, I guess?”

“Asshole.” Beau wants to glare but she can feel a smile at the corners of her mouth, trying to escape. “Seriously man, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Drinking,” Keg replies. “Or, I should be.” She orders one for herself and one for Beau, and sits down next to her, and Beau watches the way she moves in all those heavy layers of armor like they’re nothing, part of her own skin. Watching her feels… familiar. Like there haven’t been however many months and miles and missions and fights and whatever the fuck else since they last saw each other. Like they were meant to meet up, here in this shitty inn in this far distant corner of the ass end of nowhere.

It should be awkward. It should be really _fucking_ awkward because the last time she saw Keg, she went down on her until Keg could barely remember her own name. Beau allows herself a small, satisfied smirk at the memory, and hides her face behind her tankard. It should be awkward, but as she looks at Keg, sitting there across the table, looking perhaps a little less exhausted than she did then, but otherwise much the same, Beau doesn’t actually feel awkward at all. She has no idea what to do with that.

Keg starts talking first, though her story is sparse and full of obvious holes that Beau doesn’t ask about. She’s been in the area on a job but it’s all gone south and something about being pretty fucking sure she’s not getting paid but grateful to have escaped with all her limbs. Beau thinks she might have been playing that last bit up for effect, so in her turn she tells Keg all the gory details of the Nein’s own recent fight. She shows off all her newest scars and wounds, and doesn’t fail to notice the way Keg’s eyes linger when she lifts up the bottom of her shirt to display a long, almost-healed gash across her belly. “And that’s _after_ Cad cast a spell to fix me up!”

“Everyone else ok?” There’s a note of concern in Keg’s voice that she’s not doing a good job of hiding.

“Oh, yeah, nothing a night’s rest won’t cure. They’re all upstairs, sleeping it off.”

“But not you.”

Shit, since when has Keg been perceptive? Beau shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “Not me. Wanted a drink first, you know?”

Keg’s eyes are warm and fathoms deep. “Yeah, I know.” And to her credit, she doesn’t pry any further.

Another drink apiece and some more shared anecdotes about each of their respective misadventures, and Beau is beginning to feel her knotted muscles unwind. Beginning to feel the ball of tension in her stomach loosen enough that she might possibly be able to sleep. So much has happened recently, and there’s so much still to come, and there are nights when her brain just refuses to stop racing in circles long enough for her to get any rest.

The shitty booze helps.

She can think of something else that would help more.

She knocks back the last of her drink, and catches Keg’s gaze, holds it for a long moment, then pushes her chair back from the table. “Meet me outside?”

Keg’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second, but then she nods, trying for a nonchalance that doesn’t quite stick. “Wash your hands first.”

Beau grins, flashes her a thumbs up, and goes in search of whatever passes for a washroom in this place.

Emerging into the cool night air, she tracks Keg by the faint scrape of metal and finds her lurking in the shadows down the side of the building, half her armor piled on her pack at her feet, and a faint flush apparent on her cheeks. It’s late enough that there’s no one else about, but Beau notes that it’s also quiet enough that they’ll need to be careful.

Keen not to waste a single moment, she shoves Keg back against the wall, knowing that Keg is letting herself be pushed, and leans down to kiss her hard and thoroughly. Keg’s mouth on hers is hot and demanding and tastes just the way Beau remembers it, right down to the hint of smoke on her breath. Keg’s hands come to rest at Beau’s midriff, warm and firm against bare skin, grounding her as the rush of the kiss threatens to overwhelm her.

She’s panting by the time she breaks away from Keg’s mouth. Keg’s eyes are dark, her lips swollen and bitten and just begging for Beau to kiss them again. Beau resists, instead dropping to her knees on the chill ground. With nimble fingers, she unlaces the leather breeches Keg wears under her armor, tugs them down just enough for access, and Keg settles her stance above her, braced against the wall with her legs parted.

The angle is awkward, but Beau isn’t this flexible for nothing. A moment’s careful positioning and she goes to work with mouth and fingers together, and Keg tastes just as amazing as she remembers. She also remembers, she finds, that if she moves her hand exactly like _that_ , flicks the tip of her tongue in just the right way, Keg will make some fucking awesome noises. She glances up just long enough to see that Keg’s biting on her own hand to muffle the sound, little whimpers of need escaping through her teeth. Beau grins to herself and doesn’t let up, continues building the intensity of her movements as Keg’s hips shift and stutter, finding Keg’s ass with her free arm to hold her steady as Keg lets out a low keening note and _comes_ , tensing and releasing around Beau’s hand, wet heat against her mouth, and Beau can feel the blinding surge of pleasure almost as her own.

She rests her chin against Keg’s thigh for a moment, tries to get her head together, but she knows a losing battle when she sees one. Keg, who can surely hardly have had time to catch her breath, has her hands at Beau’s shoulders, little motions urging her to stand up. So she does.

Getting off the ground, she just about registers the sting of newly scraped knees, an interesting addition to her prior injuries, but then Keg grabs her about the waist and spins her around, pinning her against rough stone before she can so much as gasp.

Her shirt tugged out of the way, the height different isn’t so much a problem when it means that Keg’s face is perfectly level with Beau’s breasts, and now Beau does gasp, narrowly avoiding smacking her head on the wall behind her as Keg nips and sucks and kisses, her heated breath contrasting with the cold air.

The shape of Keg’s hand slipping under Beau’s waistband and down between her legs is another welcome familiarity, and she’s quick and sure in her movements, knowing just what Beau needs. She draws Beau’s pleasure from her, each certain touch bringing her closer and closer to the edge, before she slides sturdy fingers inside her and Beau feels like she barely remembers how to breathe. Her legs give up on holding her, and she leans what feels like her full weight into the palm of Keg’s hand, held fast between Keg’s body and the wall, grinding down to the rhythm Keg has set for her, every fibre of her alive with a fiery tension that builds and builds, until maybe that’s all she is, just _want_ and _need_ and trembling, burning muscles.

Beau buries her face down into Keg’s neck and finally lets herself break.

Her orgasm crashes through her like a runaway cart, carrying her along, helpless and shaking, and she stifles a sound embarrassingly close to a wail in Keg’s warm skin.

In the last few bright aftershocks, with Keg’s fingers still inside her and her brain slowed to a soft and pleasant blur for the first time in what feels like a very long time, Beau murmurs, _“I missed you,”_ under her breath. She doesn’t know if she wants Keg to hear her, and she’s ready to swear she didn’t say anything if Keg decides to call her on it.

Keg doesn’t say anything, but it’s possible, just maybe, that her grip on Beau tightens, almost imperceptibly, a small enough movement that Beau might well have imagined it.

The air is still cold, and so is the wall, and the process of untangling their limbs from one another takes a moment. An awkward silence threatens to grow between them while they sort out their clothes, make themselves look as close to respectable as either of them will ever manage, but then Beau summons the presence of mind to ask Keg where she’s planning to sleep for the night.

Keg waves her arm vaguely in the direction of nothing very much. “I’m camping, I guess? You know, thought I’d save a few silvers…”

“Do you want… uh, that is, you could come share with me and Jester? There’s only floor space, but it’ll be warmer than out here. And I bet Nott’d be pleased to see you.”

Keg doesn’t hesitate. “Oh, um, yes, cool, that would be cool, actually.”

There’s an extremely brief pause, while Beau considers what she’s about to say. She doesn’t know if it’s a good idea, is the conclusion she comes to, and she’s damned sure her own past self wouldn’t have said it, after what just happened between them, but, shit, she’s going to say it anyway.

“You don’t have to leave in the morning this time, you know. You could come along with us for a bit? I mean, uh, if you don’t have anything better to do.”

Keg’s expression is unreadable. “I can’t,” is what she says, after a moment. “Not yet.” She glances at Beau and then away. “Ask me again next time though, ok?”

Beau nods. “Yeah. I will.”

“You can buy me breakfast tomorrow if you like,” Keg tells her with a sudden grin.

And Beau laughs and leads the way back inside.


End file.
